Lacuna
by ScreamingInSilence
Summary: When glass is destroyed, it doesn't just break. It shatters. Even the strongest must shatter one day. Bluestreak centric.


Talkative, clumsy Blue. That's me. Probably all I'll ever be is talkative and clumsy. At least if I stay like that then none of the other Autobots will ask if I'm alright. It's been almost three hundred years to the day since the attack on Autobot City. I should be alright; I should be the old cheerfully gunner that everyone loves. At least, that's what they all expect me to be. But I'm not that gunner any more. I don't want to smile all the time.

I want to cry.

I miss him. I miss Prowl. I miss them all so very, very much. But I miss him most of all. He was a lot like my big brother. We had our own little family inside the big family of Ark Autobots. Just him, me and you. The three Datsuns. But now he's gone, and you're always being sent off on missions. And I'm always left behind. Again. Just like back on Cybertron.

I guess that's one of the things that I really liked about Prowl when we first met. He listened to me. Even when I babbled on about nothing, or when I had a nightmare or was frightened, he listened. I could yell at him, or call him something hurtful, I even hit him once and he didn't react. He just listened, and when I was finished he used to talk.

He'd tell me that it was okay to babble, since it made up a big part of me. He used to say, every time before a battle, "Bluestreak, it's alright to be afraid. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise". Whenever I had a nightmare, and they used to be pretty frequent back then, he'd just sit there and hold me, and if they were really bad he'd rock me. I even recall him singing once, but it was only once. He had to maintain his image, after all.

But I didn't just like him for listening to me, no. He treated me as an equal. It made me a little wary at first, what with all the stories around about the Second In Command. But he was nothing like those stories. He was kind and thoughtful, and he always had time to spare for anyone. Sometimes he acted emotionless, but that was only because he buried those emotions below the surface. They could still be seen if anyone bothered looking.

He used to ask me things; sometimes they weren't important, just simple things like who the first gladiatorial champion was, or what mech held the record for continuously getting lost in a city. But sometimes he'd ask me for advice on his strategies. They were the hardest questions to answer, because I'm not smart like that. He was patient, though, and sometimes what I told him helped. I don't think he ever told Prime - Optimus, not Rodimus - that he used to share his strategies with me. We both would've been in a lot of trouble.

He used to spend so much of his spare time with me that I guess it was only natural that a bond formed. Though I didn't consider him my brother back then, and I don't think he considered me his. Honestly, the term 'brother' confused me back then, even though I knew the Twins and the strange bond they shared. It was only when we crashed so spectacularly on Earth and woke up that I came to understand its meaning.

Blood brothers, brothers-in-arms, brothers of war, white brothers, black brothers, brown brothers, even the animals like deer and rabbits had brothers. I think I actually managed to surprise Prowl with all the research I did on brothers. He watched me, though, probably to make sure I understood the meanings. I'm not sure when, but at some point I guess we started to consider ourselves as brothers. And then somewhere along the line the word cousin popped up, and you willingly joined in, laughing all the way. Most of the way, at least.

Things were great when we were brought back on line in Mt. Saint. Hilary. Prowl didn't get to spend as much time with me as usual since the Decepticons kept appearing left, right and centre, and Optimus needed his help more than ever, but we still spent tons of time together. He used to take me to different places around the country, even though the other Autobots thought he never went anywhere. Sometimes it was just the two of us, sometimes us and you, and sometimes me and you.

And then there were the rare times when I was left alone. Those were the worst times. Whenever Prowl was around, I was fine, but when he wasn't... the nightmares started again. They weren't always bad. Most of the time I could handle them. Sometimes though, they were really bad. The worst one I can remember was where I thought Jazz was a Decepticon, and I shot him. I'm just glad the shot missed his head, which was the intended target, and hit his shoulder.

Yeah, things were great, and I was mostly happy with my life, especially since Prowl was in it. However the Decpeticons, being built as they are, ruined everything when they booted the rest of the Autobot force from Cybertron. Well, boot is too light a word. More like fare-welled them with some well placed missiles and what looked like a fireworks explosion of shots. The end result was that the time I did get with Prowl was further diminished as he had to spend most of his time sorting out the Cybertron Autobots.

Almost all of us Earth Autobots ended up having to share our rooms, or being kicked out of them entirely. The only exception was the Twins. They refused to let anyone bunk in their double room. Lucky them; they got away with it. I got stuck with Blurr sharing my room. He was friendly, but everyone seemed to think that I was his translator since I was the only mech who could properly understand him. Which meant I ended up getting dragged around as a courier again, and barely got any time alone with Prowl or you.

Nearly everyone was glad when Grapple, Hoist and the others finished the plans for Autobot City, and we got a land grant from the government. That still didn't give me any real time with Prowl or you. If I wasn't being dragged around to act as Blurr's translator both in my on and off time and helping with the construction, then I was in recharge. I was too tired to do anything else. It's not easy trying to keep up with Blurr; he can really wear a mech down.

It was only through the windmill that I found out about the planned Moon Bases, which Autobots were to be stationed on them, and that they were to leave the day that Autobot City was finished. For the first time in months I actually got the chance to spend time with Prowl, but I was so angry at him that I avoided him as much as possible, and he had no idea why. Looking back now, I wish I'd shoved my anger aside.

I never did thank Ratchet for what he did. He threatened to literally turn me into a microwave oven if I didn't talk things over with Prowl. Anyone who didn't have a healthy dose of respect and fear for Ratchet was an idiot. He was the only reason I actually let Prowl find me. I can hide pretty well if I really don't want to be found. It didn't take him long to find me on Look-out Mountain. The same place I'm sitting now. I'm half-expecting him to appear at the end of the road, even though I know he won't.

He took his time to come up; I think he was thinking, though about what I don't know. Neither of us said a word at first, but I'm no good with silences, so I eventually started talking. Well, it was more like yelling actually. A lot of what I said is vague and hard to remember, but the rest of it is as clear as crystal, and probably some of the most hurtful things I've ever said to anybody, let alone Prowl. I know that was the one time that my words were really hurting Prowl, but I was exhausted and scared and lonely and he didn't seem to understand that.

As was typical of him, he never said a word. Normally I was grateful for that, because it let me get everything out of my systems, but that one time it just frustrated me more. I remember stalking over to the edge of the look out and just standing there fuming silently while at the same time trying not to cry, something I picked up from Spike. I really shouldn't have bothered trying, because the next thing I remember is Prowl hugging me, humming softly while I let it all out.

It kind of looked like one of those scenes out of the movies, where the girl's just finished banging on the guy's chest and her fists are kind of resting there while her head's on his shoulder, and he's got his arms around her and one hand's stroking the back of her head. At least, that's how you described it, and when I was finished making up with Prowl I made sure to give you - what's the term? Merry hell on our way down the mountain. I don't think we ever got all of those dents out. Ratchet wasn't impressed with us, or Prowl for not stopping us.

Time seemed to pass by us after that, and Autobot City was finished in what felt like days instead of months, and before I knew it I was saying goodbye to Prowl before he boarded the shuttle with the other Moon Base-bound Autobots. That was the last time I spoke to him in person on Earth. The only other times we really got to talk was when we were both on duty in our respective Control Rooms and the Moon Bases needed supplies, and even that was limited communication.

The last time I spoke with Prowl was when we were both on duty. Nothing was really happening on Earth that Blaster couldn't handle, and nothing at all was happening on Cybertron. All three of us could've gotten in a lot of trouble for talking without a decent reason during duty, but Blaster didn't mind, I really didn't care at that point, and Prowl was the Second In Command; he could sweet-talk Optimus and get us out of trouble by using something like nightmares as a legitimate excuse.

We didn't really talk about anything important. I promised to upload some of the new opera cd's to him, and he asked me how my chess skills were going; he somehow convinced the Dinobots into playing with me, and they are very good players. I asked him if Sunny was behaving, and he said that the yellow Lambo was going stir crazy without his twin. I told him Sides was worse; he was driving everyone else stir crazy. Prowl just gave me a soft laugh before telling me he'd see me and you when the energon run shuttle landed on Earth.

I lost track of how long we spent talking; I do know that Blaster made sure no one else entered the Control Room unexpectedly, and that they never noticed me and Prowl. It think it was almost time for the morning shift to arrive when Prowl had to go; Moon Base shifts were earlier than ours. Before he said goodbye, he told me to go to his old office in the Ark and look in the hollow in the base of the wall. When I asked why he just said that he had a bad feeling about the future.

I promised to look, and he gave me a fond smile before telling me to take care. Then the screen went blank before the normal world map appeared. What I had been told to do confused me, but the reason behind it had me worried. Prowl wasn't the type of mech to follow his instincts, so if he was following them now then something bad was going to happen, and soon. That was two days before the attack on Autobot City. Y'know, I only just realised how lucky I was, getting to talk to Prowl just before... yeah.

I never did search that hollow.

Anyhow, we were just putting up the last blockade to Look-out Mountain - me, Huffer, Kup and Sideswipe - when the shuttle passed by overhead and Hot Rod tried to run us over. Even before Hot Rod started firing at it seconds later, I knew something was badly wrong. Prowl would have sent me a message when they reached Earth's atmosphere; he knew I would worry about him if he didn't. But I hadn't gotten any message, and moments later Decepticons started pouring from the shuttle.

I believe a part of me already knew, as the four of us rushed back to the city, that Prowl hadn't survived, but the rest of me didn't pay attention. Hope dies hard, or something like that. I honestly believed at the time that Prowl wouldn't die, wouldn't leave me behind on my own. He cared about me too much to do that. I was worse than useless for most of the fight; shock had taken hold temporarily. I was a liability that needed protecting. Sideswipe kept an optic on me for most of the fight before putting me in Hotspot's hands.

You'd think the memories would have started to fade by now, or that I would have pushed them as far away as I could. But they're still there, fresh as though it was occurring right now. I remember after the battle, when we had to go... help the energon run Autobots. I didn't have to go, but hey, my friends were on that shuttle. Prowl was on it.

I really don't remember much of that day. I know that they tried to keep me away from the shuttle, told me that no one had made it. That scared me, the way they said it so seriously. The Twins wouldn't let go of me, even after First Aid had exited the shuttle shaking his head sadly. They tried to drag me away, but I refused to go. I don't remember why. I guess I just didn't want to believe First Aid. I couldn't believe him.

They couldn't stop me from watching as they brought Ironhide out. I felt sick when I saw his head was missing; obliterated, probably. Ratchet was so riddled with holes that you could only tell who he was by the crosses on his shoulders and the black chevron on his helm. Brawn looked like he was in recharge; I remember silently wishing he was. I don't remember seeing them bring Prowl out, though I know they did. I think the shock had taken hold permanently by then.

After that, I remember someone talking to me as they patched up a burn on my arm. At first I thought it was Wheeljack, and a part of me was relieved that he had survived. Perceptor pretty much destroyed that relief by using the word vitriolic. Wheeljack never used those types of words with me. Perceptor never even realised that he'd just given me the only clue I needed to realise that the slightly eccentric scientist was also dead. Just another reason for the shock to stick around.

Now I hit a big blank patch in my memory. I think... this was where someone, maybe Hound, gave me a death list. My mind must have been trying to protect me from more pain. Huh, a bitter laugh is required here. Yeah, great protecting; I guess it didn't think that I'd notice more than half the Ark population was missing from every day life. Didn't think I'd notice that Prowl was missing.

I pretty much steered clear of everyone for a few days; just cooped myself in my room and refused to leave. It took me a while to get the courage to go... visit the dead. Skirting around those I didn't know, trying not to look at those I did. There was only two mechs I wanted to see, that I'd be able to force myself to say goodbye to. Would you believe it, they were right at the end of the colossal room. I was shaking as I reached them.

Ratchet was laying between Wheeljack and Windcharger. That was the first time I had seen them since the attack and, I have to admit, they looked pretty good for dead mechs. Just thinking about them, lying there so silently, nothing suddenly exploding in my face; I'm trying not to shake right now. Trying not to cry. As quietly as I could manage, I walked up to Ratchet's side and knelt beside him. Taking his hand in mine, I thanked him the way I should have when he was alive. I thanked him for... everything.

Letting go, I stood up and made an ancient Cybertronian sign for peace. It looks a bit like holding your hand horizontally over your spark chamber before going to hold a small ball and then it sweeps down in a slashing motion. Ratchet taught it to me when I first met him; he said that if he could pass on even a small fraction of the ancient Cybertronian's ways, then he would be pleased. I hope he's glad I remembered it.

It was harder... than I ever imagined, saying goodbye to Prowl. He was everything to me. Creator, mentor, carer, friend and brother, and he still had to be Second In Command to the Autobots. I depended on him so much, for even some of the tiniest things, and then suddenly he was no longer there to depend on. As I approached him some of the moonlight reflected off my armour and onto his optics and, for a second, it seemed as if he was only in recharge. Then I continued forward, and it was gone. Just like that.

When I took his hand, everything seemed to freeze, and I just knelt there and stared at him, wishing desperately that he'd wake up and ask me what's wrong, but he never moved and time seemed to take hold again. Everything I'd managed to bottle up over the past week stirred and jumped forward, and before I knew it I was crying and I couldn't stop no matter how hard I tried. The more I tried the harder I cried, and I couldn't seem to circulate enough air through my intakes and everything went blurry.

That was where I finally broke down. I just couldn't keep it bottled up like that anymore; it hurt so much, it felt worse than dying, and I've known my fair share of dying. I just... let it come out. All of it. All the hurt, the pain, the loneliness. Betrayal and anger, shock and disappointment. Finally, fear. I didn't know what to do, I didn't see anything left alive to live for. My whole world was crashing and shattering in a record time, and I was terrified to stay in it alone.

I must have stayed there like that, crying quietly, for hours. Time left me behind, and I didn't care. I wanted to be left behind. I could deal with that. I thought that maybe, if I was left behind enough, maybe I'd get Prowl back. Then I realised how stupid that was; I didn't think it was possible to cry so hard. Your systems shaking all over, you can't see properly, can't cycle air properly, can't do anything properly. And the more you think about those you've lost, the harder everything gets.

It was barely after six the night before when I went to see them, but it must have been clearing daybreak when someone found me. I felt a hand patting me gently on the shoulder and, when I turned to look, the first thing I saw was black and white. I knew it wasn't Prowl, but the biggest part of me missed him so desperately, it was willing to believe that, for a few moments, he'd come back. Then it faded, and Jazz was standing there, just watching me. No words, no stance. Just... watching.

Before I knew it, he was kneeling beside me and hugging me so tightly I thought I'd break. I didn't care. I turned away from Prowl's body and just kept right on crying. Jazz didn't complain; I think, in a strange way, he understood. Prowl'd been one of his closest friends, so in a way I guess he understand better than anyone else could. I must have fallen into recharge or something, because the next thing I remember is coming to in my room, and Jazz was sitting there on my berth; just holding me, and rocking me, and humming this sad song.

Funnily enough, I didn't start crying again. I just stayed still and silent, and listened to Jazz as he hummed, and let him rock me. In a weird way, it felt like Prowl was there instead of Jazz. He didn't hum much, unlike Jazz, but he used to do the same rocking motion whenever I was having a nightmare, and this was probably the worst nightmare of all. Rocking me like that was probably the only thing that saved Jazz from getting cried on again. But, I think, he didn't really care about that.

I kept mostly to myself after that. I just... wasn't ready to face anyone, let alone the surviving Ark Autobots. I found out later from Sideswipe, who was one of the few mechs I actually let near me then, that Jazz was the only officer that remained from the old command system, and that he was trying to keep all the surviving Ark 'bots together, to ease the pain a little. At the time, I didn't give a flying wingnut, just as long as they left me alone. Sometimes that's still all I care about.

I must have stayed like that for almost a decade. Uncaring, unwilling, and probably seeming dead myself a lot of the time. When Optimus was brought back to life, I had a fair amount of hope that Prowl would be able to be brought back too. Yeah, right, like that would happen. When Optimus ordered the Autobot armada to go with him and destroy the Quintessons, I just hid myself and refused to go. I knew that almost everyone was getting fed up with me. Some of the older Ark 'bots were, too.

It must have been almost twelve years after Autobot City that Jazz finally snapped. He took me aside late one night, after I'd shirked patrol again, and gave me an ultimatum: either I pull myself together or he'd do me a favour and help me 'move on', and from the weapon in his hand, I knew he was serious. I'd heard that Jazz had been different before he joined the Autobots, but this was the first time I'd seen his old personality appear. It scared me, badly, because Jazz had never threatened to hurt me before.

In the end, I believe that's what made me break out of... whatever it was I'd been trapped in. I admit, I'd hoped that it would bring back the old me, and was badly disappointed when I found that I was still the depressed, hurting mech from before. And it was getting worse without Prowl there to help. But I tried. Over a decade, I'd become scruffy and battered-looking. Overnight, I was polished and spotless, and turned up for duty on time and properly charged. Jazz met me there, gave me a once-over and nodded before transforming.

From then on, I tried to turn back into the cheerful, clumsy Bluestreak that everyone had known before 2005. I tried my hardest, and fooled everyone. Except you. You saw right through me every time, and tried to help. I just didn't want to be helped. The more I tried to push you away, though, the harder you tried. Eventually I found that, everywhere I turned, you were there, keeping an optic on me. At first it drove me insane, and I'd yell at you, and try to get rid of you.

I don't know what changed. Maybe it was something around me, or maybe it was something in me. All I know is that the bond I'd shared with you before the Cybertronian Autobots arrived was suddenly starting to grow stronger again. It didn't lift the depression, but there was a significant difference: I was talking again. Up until then, the normal chattiness inside of me had died. I think I gave just about everyone a premature systems failure when I suddenly, sporadically started chattering again.

At this, everyone assumed that I was going to be just fine, and that they could treat me the same way they had before. And so, I was forced into pretending that I was fine. And that's where I am now. Stuck pretending to be someone I'm not. Like I said, I'm sick of smiling all the time, trying to please others. I miss Prowl. But no one's letting me cry anymore. And it hurts; it hurts inside, where they can't see. But they don't seem to understand that. Not that I'm surprised.

Three hundred years. It's hardly the flash of an optic in our lifetimes, but being on Earth, for even this short amount of time... it just seems so long. So long to be hurting; so long to be pretending. And I don't know if I can pretend any longer. I don't know who I am anymore. I need to get away from all of this. From these Autobots, from this planet, from this stupid war. All it does is cause pain and suffering.

I just... need to get away for a while, to figure things out inside my head. I know it seems hard to understand, but that's just how I am at the moment. Hopefully I'll be back before the turn of the century. If I'm not... well, I'll be close by. You might not see me, but I'll see you. And maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to find the real me out there somewhere, and find where I belong in this messed-up universe.

So, I hope this explains why I'm suddenly missing, Smokescreen. Don't worry about me, I'll be okay. Even I can't get into universe-destroying trouble, you know. I hope. But I'll see you when I get back. I miss you... a lot. And by the time you find and finish reading this, I'll probably be three universes away.

Love you, Smoky. More than I act, and more than you know.

Your cousin forever,

Blue

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**Silver  
2006**


End file.
